Victim of my Mind
by JustBreathDeep
Summary: Hey Readers, this is my first FanFiction story, but I hope to keep at it and write more. I would appreciate only constructive criticism please. I'm posting to this site to get my work out there and possibly some helpful reviews, not mean criticism. Anyways, this story was inspired by WhyNotDream and I know the story plot wasn't originally hers but she is where I got the idea.


**Hey Readers, this is my first FanFiction story, but I hope to keep at it and write more.**

**I would appreciate only constructive criticism please. I'm posting to this site to get my work out there and possibly some helpful reviews, not mean criticism.**

**Anyways, this story was inspired by WhyNotDream and I know the story plot wasn't originally hers but she is where I got the idea.**

**This is the 100th Hunger Games, a Quarter Quell, and obviously the rebellion never happened.**

**I hope you enjoy my story and thanks for reading.**

**Asher Sikes, 15, District 5**

I woke up to the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning. The annual storms had started. They always come around the time of the Hunger Games. At least this means that I can get over most of the predictable bad events in life all at once. I say predictable because a lot of things in life are unpredictable. The list includes: death, sickness, and embarrassment. There's a story that goes along with the embarrassment option but I figure it doesn't apply. However, and death story does apply, so here it goes.

Six years ago a little boy and his sister were at one of the many power plants in District 5. These two children happened to be delivering a message to their father who ironically worked in the offices. To get to these offices, you must traverse the dangerous realms of the lobby or the relatively safe generation room. Not one kid who visits the plant would dare to venture into the jaws of the secretary, Ms. Hoffield, so they all slip through the generation room. This day, though, no one was manning the generation room so no one was there to stop the little boy—besides sister—from touching the high tech generator. Sadly, his sister knew just as much as he did about the danger, and did nothing to stop him. Right as the boy reached towards and touched the generator, sending 150amps of electricity raging through him and paralyzingly his breathing and his heart, a mocking jay called through an open window. This little boy happened to be my younger brother, Pete, and the girl, as you may have figured out, was me.

The most important parts of that story were the death, the ability to stop the death, and, surprisingly, the bird's call. Luckily there aren't many mocking jays around here, because I would always be a nervous wreck.

Later that year, my parents found out that I just happen to be bipolar. That one bird had given me a trigger that, if the doctor is correct, will send me into nervous breakdowns throughout my whole life. During these breakdowns, I have flashbacks to that one moment of his death. I hear his and my screams, and generally fall to the ground with my hands over my ears, just begging for it to stop.

The last few years around this time the whole family has gotten a little depressed; Pete always loved watching the Hunger Games. He would watch each kill again and again, preparing himself for life in the arena if he got chosen. I guess all of that preparation was useless; his end was nothing that he could have fought.

This year is a Quarter Quell and the Capitol citizens will vote on their favorite candidates. I've made it into the top ten girls, and at the Reapings we will stand in front of the whole District as the final results are revealed. The only thing good about this special style of Hunger Game is that there are no escorts. I don't know if I'm more nervous about going up there with them all looking at me, or that I'll get chosen as a Tribute.

My Mom, Clara, is helping me get ready for the Reaping. She's plaiting my blond hair, and even though I'm usually never allowed to wear makeup, she's letting me put on some of her mascara and eyeshadow. I don't think of my face as that pretty, but my Mom always says, "Ash, baby, you have the prettiest face." and the boys at school seem to like it. They always ask me to dances, but our school dances are so lame. Everyone just stands and talks or makes out in the corner, and suffice to say, I do not attend.

Anyways, my outfit is an old hand-me-down from my sister, Annabelle. She's 20 now, married, and old enough to be out of the Reaping. She always did have a good fashion sense, so what I am wearing is nice. It is a white shirt tucked into a blue floral skirt that is held up with a brown belt. I am also wearing white sandals that hurt my feet when I walk.

The Reaping is on the other end of town so we'll have to leave an hour early to get there on time. We barely go over to that side of town because not only is that the richy rich neighborhood, but most things are so close we can walk. School is just down the block, and the store is a half mile away. There's even a pretty nice clothing store 2 miles to the east; not that I ever buy anything. My family, if you haven't already guessed, isn't exactly what you'd call rich.

At the Reaping the other 9 are dressed up in their finest clothes as well, though, mine are nowhere near as pretty as theirs. I don't know why the Capitol does the whole, 'Hunger Games ooh you might get chosen' thing. I mean, I know that they like the suspense, but couldn't they at least tell us who it's going to be. For them, it's just a TV show. For us, it's freaking life or death. I guess the reason is that it _is_ just a TV show for them, something they're watching on a screen. The tributes aren't real people to them; they aren't people they may have met at school or even just walked past in the street.

The nine other girls and I are told to stand in a line on one side of the stage, and I can see the boys on the other side doing the same. It's like we're hogs in a pen getting ready for the butcher; just waiting to see who will be chosen to get eaten next. It's sick to me how this is all just some game to them. Watching us stand and up here while they watch and laugh in their expensive penthouse apartments in the safe Capitol.

The crowd quiets down as our mayor comes out on stage holding a golden envelope; as if one of us is the lucky winner for a contest. Now, he's giving a speech which is even more excruciating than just standing here. He keeps saying how lucky all of us were to be given this chance to progress in life and how the Capitol is doing us a huge favor. I wish they would cut the crap. The citizens can't seriously be that naive. Only the Careers enjoy this—they actually have a chance of winning.

The mayor is opening the envelope and his eyes and face stay unchanged. I guess it's not a surprise to him. As everyone stares, he reads a single name, Asher Sikes. I just stand there stunned, staring into space, when suddenly a burst of sobbing in the crowd startles me. It's my Mother, my strong Mother, who never breaks down. Who, even after my brother's death, is still not emotional, but calm. She started to sink to the ground but my father caught her and is holding her up. Even as they say the name of the boy in our district, Pi Wright, I can't draw my eyes away from this horrifying sight. I awkwardly shake hands with Pi and then we walk off the stage. I am then lead into a room to wait for my family. I sit on the couch and tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Not from sadness, but from shock, and pity for my parents.

Soon, my parents come in and my mother runs and grabs me. She starts sobbing about how I can't leave them and I try to tell her it's impossible, but she won't listen. My father comes forward holding a ring in his hand. It's made of silver and has a beautiful wave pattern on it.

"It was you grandmother's," he barely whispers, and hands it to me. As I take a closer look, I realize that I've seen it before, during many of the hard times in our lives, always on the hand of my mother. It was at grandma's funeral, my brothers funeral, and now I will take it into the arena.

My parents are then lead out and Yasmin, my best friend, comes in. She's crying and I wish this wasn't happening, but she just wishes me luck and hands me a letter she apparently wrote in this instance. I know I can't read it now, I'll just start crying.

After Yasmin leaves, Pi and I are brought to the train that will take us to the Capitol. It's much nicer than I'm used to, and the food is wonderful. There are more than plenty of clothes; all are beautiful and much more expensive than I could ever have afforded.

I don't know why people form alliances. It just seems like a safety net to me, but if they get hurt or sick it's just a hindrance to you I certainly will not be making any alliances.

As far as I can tell, my weakness is a mocking jay's call, and I can't think of any strengths. I've never worked out or lifted things, never hunted or fought, hell, I've never even gotten in a physical fight once. In other words, I'm screwed.

**Micheal Zabroni, 15, District 10**

My job sucks, literally. I have to put a plastic tube on a cows utter and then suck on the other end to get the milk flowing. In the fun facts section of our history book, I read that people would do this to steal gas out of people's transportation devices. It's called siphoning; I'm siphoning a cow.

Well, at least it's only a Saturday job. I have school on weekdays and Sunday is my day off. Today, I get off early because of the Reaping. I don't know if I should really call it that, because its not a normal Reaping, but whatever. At least I don't have to worry about being chosen because I'm not in the top ten. This year it's a Quarter Quell and the Capitol citizens will vote on their favorite candidates. I'm lucky I don't have to worry.

I love when I finish work because, not only is it nice to be done, but the walk back is amazing. I hike over this hill and the sun is usually setting and shining, the river reflecting its brilliance. However, when I get home, I just sit in my room and read. It relaxes me and prepares me for the day ahead.

When I get home today, my parents are anxiously sitting on the front porch. I break into a jog as I get closer, for, I am curious as to what has upset them. My Mom is holding out a letter. She says someone came by and delivered it to me.

As I read the letter I start to get angry at that little coward, Graham Pierce. How could he be such an idiot? I explain to my parents that Graham has broken his leg and I got the next highest amount of votes, therefore, I get a chance to be in the Hunger Games! Whoopee.

I can tell this is going to be fun once I get my finger pricked and am on the stage. Every single person in the district is here and, since we all deal with livestock, the smell isn't something that will be forgettable. I doubt I'll make it, since I wasn't even one of the original top ten, but who knows? Maybe some Capitol chicks will think I'm super hot.

The mayor, whom I think is actually quite kind, comes onto the stage holding a gold envelope. Whatever it contains holds the future of two special, but not lucky, teens. I pray to God that I'm not one of them. I'm an only child and it would just kill my parents.

He's reading out the name of the girl. I don't know her, but her name is April Valentine. Apparently, she's 18, but standing there she looks scared and vulnerable. Now the name of the boy, Michael Zabroni. Crap, that's my name. I'm stunned; this isn't supposed to happen, it's not supposed to be this way. I just need them to say that it's the wrong name. Now I'm shaking hands with April and I know it's official. I'm being lead into a back room and my parents come in. They seem so depressed that I feel guilty. My Mom comes and hugs me, and now she's crying. I don't know what I'll have as my token, but apparently my Father does. He pulls out a tiny picture and holds it out to me. I recognize it's a picture of our family, including Bandit, my dog. After my mother has let go he embraces me.

They're finally taken away and I'm brought out to a train. I can see lights down the tracks but I feel like going to my room and laying there. That doesn't seem to be the plan, though. I'm brought to a dining room where I'll have to eat with April.

After a dinner that seems to take eternity, I go to my room where I look into the mirror. My whole life has changed, but my curly brown hair and brown eyes have stayed the same. I stand there for a while looking and then I quickly strip down to my underwear and slide into bed. Instead of falling asleep, I feel listless laying there, watching the lights outside the window, but eventually I fall asleep.

**Morgan Ellis, 18, District 7**

Many people think I'm shy, but I'm really not. When I'm with my friends or my boyfriend I'm quite outgoing. My boyfriend's name is Matthew, he's a lumberjack. He's in the top ten boys, and I'm in the top ten girls. I hope neither of us gets picked and especially not together, that would totally suck. I wouldn't be able to kill him.

Since this is District 7 and we deal with lumber, our stage is made of beautiful cherry wood. I won't mind standing up there, although I wish the circumstances were a bit better. I'm very familiar with all different types of wood, as well as being handy with a an axe, but those are the only things that can help me in the arena. I figure that forming an alliance is my only chance, so that I'll have people to support me and for me to support. Although, I doubt I'll get chosen as a Tribute. I don't think there is anything even remotely interesting about me. I get average grades, I have average work ethic, and I don't even seem mildly bloodthirsty. I'm not even pretty. If I go, I bet I'll be killed in the bloodbath by some Career.

I'm headed to the town center with my best bud, Chrissy. She's in the top ten, too. I don't think Chrissy would be sad to go, I'm the only one who would miss her. Her parents died and her aunt hates her. Chrissy's a year younger and has been in a enough fights that I wouldn't be surprised if she won. Well, she's only won one of those fights, but that's more than me.

We are now lined up on the stage for the moment of truth and the mayor is opening a golden envelope. The name is, Morgan Ellis. Damn. Bye bye life. Then they call the boy, Lawrence Nightengale, I think he's in my math class at school, but I don't really know him.

I don't really think I'll miss life that much, it's very monotonous. I suppose it'll be nice to have my last few days exciting while I try to put off death. I might even make some friends before they kill me. My parents, they will just about die.

After Lawrence and I shake hands, I'm taken to a room behind the stage, but I guess there are hidden cameras. My parents come in to say goodbye and it is all very melancholy. Then Chrissy and finally Matthew. Its all very teary and emotional making everyone very sad, but I'm not feeling anything. I don't know if it's the shock or I just don't care.

We're of to the train now, me and Larry. I don't know why, but I find the name Larry to be very comical and I think it's helping me to stay straight faced. The train is very plush with delicious looking food, but I'm not very hungry. I just feel like going to bed, and it's the softest bed I've ever seen, but they think I should eat something. Yeah right, tell me I'm as good as dead and then expect me to eat this huge meal. Whatever, I guess they just don't understand.

I tuck myself into the warm bed, and stare out the window. The sky looks so beautiful, and I begin to ponder about things. My breath slows and my minds becomes sluggish as sleep overcomes me.

_"Morgan?" _

_"Yes, Grandmama?"_

_"What do you think life is all about?"_

_"Life's about fun! And candy!"_

_"I suppose five is a little young to be thinking about this... I'll tell you what, in 10-15 years I want you to ask yourself that question again. Really think about it, will you do that?"_

_"Yes, Grandmama, of course."_

_"I love you, honey. I will see you again, but hopefully it will be a great many of years from now."_

_"Grandmama? Grandma?"_

_The old women will move no more and the young girl will run to tell her mother that granny has fallen asleep and won't wake._

**This last part is a dream memory brought in to Morgan's dream state by stress. It isn't important now, but will be later in the story. I'd like to thank WhyNotDream for editing this, and seeing the things I could not. Go check out her story!**

**Thank you for reading, and please review. **


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